


Say It Again

by Lielie96



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 12:04:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20096962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lielie96/pseuds/Lielie96
Summary: The first time the words left the angel's mouth, it was an accident, in passing. Anybody else wouldn't have noticed. But not Crowley. Crowley noticed everything about Aziraphale."Say it again."A smile split the angel's lips. "Crowley, I love you."





	Say It Again

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by tumblr user @millerizo and their beautiful art here: https://millerizo.tumblr.com/post/186375152656/could-you-say-it-again-for-me-angel

"Say that again thing again, angel."

The first time the words left the angel's mouth, it was an accident, in passing. Anybody else wouldn't have noticed. But not Crowley. Crowley noticed everything about Aziraphale.  
_"Crowley dear, I love you but this a really bad idea," Aziraphale said with a sigh.  
__The demon stopped in his tracks. It had been only a couple of days since Arma-wasn't. All thoughts on whatever little temptation or mischievous doings he had planned were completely gone from his mind. All completely replaced with the angel's words. "What was that?"  
__"I was simply telling you that what you were about to do was-"_  
"No, not that part angel," the demon cut him off. "The first bit."  
Crowley could see Aziraphale's face turn red. "Oh.. Well... I said I love you."  


A smile split the angel's face. The two were sat in the back room of Aziraphale's bookshop, the demon draped over the sofa with his head on the angel's lap. "I love you, my dear."  
Crowley's heart fluttered with joy at those words. It always did. But it wasn't the same flutter he felt whenever his angel spoke. No, this one was more intimate, more emotional. It left him feeling weak in the knees but like he could take on the world at the same time. It was a feeling the demon could not get over. And if he was to put a word to it, he'd use "loved", but he'd never admit it out loud.

"Say it again."  
Aziraphale complied without hesitation. He always did for the demon in his lap. "I love you."  
"Again."  
"I love you"  
"One more time."  
"I love you, Crowley."

I was like this every other night with the angel/demon duo. Whether it was lounging on the sofa in the back room of the bookshop or cuddled up in bed in Crowley's flat, the demon would always seek out the familiar fond feeling the other left him.

* * *

"Say it again, angel."  
Tears were falling down the demon's face. He held his angel to his chest as the other grew cold.

They had grown far too used to the feeling of being free. They had become far too comfortable with being on their own side that they were caught off guard. They had not been expecting Heaven and Hell to make any moves against them so soon. Nor did they expect for the two to join forces against them.

The pair had been relaxing in the back room of Aziraphale's bookshop. They had been so engrossed in their discussion of Shakespeare's works, arguing over which should truly be considered classics, that neither seemed to noticed the dark aura that had approached the bookshop. At the sound of the little bell of the front door, the angel was on his feet, ready to chase away the potential customer.  
Only a couple seconds after Aziraphale had left the room, did Crowley feel the darkness that come from the person who had stepped into the shop. The demon scrambled to his feet, pushing over furniture in his haste.

He barely got the other's name out before he saw him. There, on the floor of the shop, lay his angel. In that moment his entire world shattered. He barely remembered running over to the other, barely remembered screaming out his name. But the image of his beloved angel in his arms in that moment would haunt him to the day he died. Red stained the angel's tartan coat, his once bright blue eyes paled and glassy.

Crowley didn't need to be an expert to know what happened. A weapon, one forged in the deepest pits of hell, had striked through his angel's very being. There was no coming back from this. This wasn't going to be one of those "inconveniently discorporated" times. This death was as permanent as it came for angels.

But Crowley didn't want to believe that. He couldn't. "Please, say it again angel."  
He didn't want to believe his angel was gone. He didn't want to accept it. He was nothing without his angel.

* * *

One lone fallen angel stood at the gates that separated Heaven from Hell. His angel would've called him "crazy", possibly even "suidial". But he had nothing to lose. Not anymore. there were only two outcomes for his plan on this day.

Either Heaven and Hell would bow before him. Or he'd die trying. And honestly, the fallen angel couldn't give a fuck which it was anymore...


End file.
